


You Need A Big God

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, post Barba departure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-06 03:31:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: Liv runs into Rafael unexpectedly after months of radio silence. Needless to say, it's a jolt.





	1. You know I still like you the most

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not making any promises about finishing this but I'm going to try, okay?

Winter’s taking a while to take leave this year.

 

It’s crisp out, and there’s a bit of a breeze, but nothing a scarf and jacket can’t fix. It’s just past six and for the first time in a while she’s left the precinct before the sun sets completely. That, and it’s friday, so the chances that she is going to tough it out and make dinner are slim to none.

 

She’s taking the last of Noah’s order over the phone as she exits her car. 

 

“I know, honey. I know you like the noodles. I got you the noodles, okay?” She stops, pulls the phone away as a particularly shrieking exclamation nearly pierces her eardrum and laughs. “Noah, sweetheart--no, no ice cream tonight okay? I will bring you back one piece of candy. Deal?” 

 

He agrees with her and hangs up before she can get another word out. Shaking her head as she stuff her phone back in her coat pocket she wonders just how much sugar he had at this Ice Cream day at school.

 

She makes a mental note to add a nice bonus to Lucy’s upcoming birthday gift as she reaches the door to the Thai restaurant and pulls it open. 

 

There’s no line at the cash register and she is instantly helped. All in all, it’s turning out to be a great start to her weekend and she’s grateful because it’s the first time in a while she hasn’t felt the need to sulk and mourn Rafael’s departure. 

 

She’s contemplating watching a movie; maybe something not animated when the bell above the door rings and she looks up instinctively. 

 

She feels as if the rug has been quite literally pulled out from under her feet and she braces herself against the cashier counter as she scans the room for a speedy exit, but it’s too late. He looks up from undoing his coat a second after setting a foot inside; it unnerves her that his habits haven’t changed.

 

He takes a step toward her, and then freezes; his mouth opens and closes like a fish on dry land, and she offhandedly thanks the server when they bring her order over, but she can’t stop looking at him. 

 

He looks good. Rested. Tan. She starts to smile, some witty greeting she’s been dying to use on him for months begins to tumble out of her mouth when a woman bursts through the door and throws her arms around him from behind, showering his cheek with kisses before coming around to hug him properly, blocking Liv’s view of him. 

 

She feels nauseated.

 

She could actually vomit right now and she knows she needs to get out, so she grabs her food and mentally kicks herself for even considering being happy to see him as she breezes past him, holding her breath to avoid catching even a whiff of his cologne. She doesn’t want to be reminded of how much she loves it.

 

She doesn’t notice him peeling himself from the woman, doesn’t see him follow her out until she’s at her car and fumbling with her keys and he stops her. 

 

“Olivia--Liv!” He catches her arm and she pulls it away as soon as he’s got a grip, turning a glare in his direction. 

 

He holds his hands up, breathless from jogging after her. “Sorry, I--hi.” 

 

She swallows the bitterness in her throat-it goes down like a dry pill-and nods. “Hey, Barba.”

 

There’s a flicker of pain but he smiles at her anyway and says, “Come on. Barba? Are we back to that?” 

 

“How are you?” She asks dryly. Her heart is racing, she can feel her hands beginning to shake; he’s too close,  _ too _ close. And he’s wearing an honest to god beanie. Noticing his stubble, she points out, “You’ve got a little scruff. That’s new.” 

 

He chuckles, reaches up and runs his hand along his jawline, “Yeah. I’m uh--how are you, Liv?” 

 

“Fine,” she nods, letting the silence thicken like froth a moment longer before finally getting her car unlocked, “I gotta go. I’m glad you’re doing well, though. It’s good to see you.” 

 

“Liv, wait.” 

 

She closes her eyes while her back is turned, takes a breath and then plasters a smile on her face to look at him, though it doesn’t mask the edge in her voice. “What?”

 

He sighs, looking almost sheepish as he pulls the hat off his head and she doesn’t want to react to him the way she does but she was always so respondent to him, since day one she never had a choice but she never really hated the fact until tonight. All she wants is to tell him to fuck off and get in her car, leave him standing there, watching her walk away this time. 

 

“That back there, I’m not--we’re not--she’s a friend. She’s very affectionate, I haven’t seen her in a while, I was just meeting her for dinner--”

 

“That’s really none of my business.” 

 

“I know, I just wanted you to know.”

 

She laughs, coldly. She knows she’s overselling it, but she doesn’t care. “Why?”

 

“Look,” he begins, taking a small step toward her, not enough to overwhelm her, but just enough that it makes her grip her keys tighter. “I know there’s a lot I need to say, I owe you an explanation.” 

 

“Oh, no, the letter was long enough, I think. Definitely wrapped up six years neatly.” Her words are dripping with disdain, the anger bubbling up within her, except the bitterness is something else, it’s mostly jealousy. She’s not proud of it, but she’s not stupid enough to lie to herself about it. 

 

Rafael exhales slowly, pressing his lips together, no doubt gathering his strength to keep from snapping back at her the way they both know he can and has. “I uh, I was planning on calling you soon. I’m not just saying that because we ran into each other, I swear.” He waits for her to acknowledge the lighthearted tone, but he quickly continues, “I’m teaching a class at NYU Law tomorrow at ten. I’ll be done by noon. Please come. Let me buy you lunch. Please.”

 

She bites her cheek to keep from crying or screaming at him or hitting him. 

 

He steps even closer, his voice a pleading whisper, “Liv, please.”

 

She shakes her head, almost says no, but in the end her ardent need for closure wins and she gives a quick, “fine” as she gets in her car and drives off without another glance. Five blocks down, she pulls over allows herself a good cry. 

 

________________________________________________________________________

 

“Mom, you’re here!” 

 

“I’m here!” She exclaims, wraps her free arm around Noah when she runs right into her legs, but he’s gone as soon as he gets there, returning promptly to his coloring book on the coffee table.

 

Lucy is drying Noah’s cup when Liv walks into the kitchen. 

 

“Hey, Lucy.”

 

“Hey, Liv.”

 

“I got so much food if you would like to stay for dinner.”

 

“Oh, no, thanks. I’m due for dinner in an hour. I’m meeting my girlfriend’s parents tonight.”

 

The girl looks nervous and gives Liv somewhat of grimm look that warrants sage advice, but Liv can’t work up the energy for it. She sets the food down on the counter and laughs halfheartedly. 

 

“Oh, they’ll love you, I’m sure. You’ll be fine.” 

 

“We’ll see. I’ll uh, see you Monday?” Lucy asks as she breezes past Olivia. 

 

Liv turns in time to see her slip her coat on at the door. “Yeah. Actually, I have to pop in to the precinct for a few hours at around 9. You think you could come by?”

 

“Yeah, no problem.”

 

“Thanks, Lucy.”

 

She waves goodbye and turns to Noah at the door, “Goodnight, Noah.”

 

“Bye!” 

 

The door closes and Olivia carries their food over to the table, propping open containers before taking a seat, just daring herself to think anything other than her little encounter with the most recent ghost from her past. 

 

“Okay, buddy. Time for dinner, come on, it’s late. You can eat straight from the container, come on.”

 

“Loading dock bites.”

 

“No. No loading dock bites, real bites, come on.” She pulls a chair out and pats the seat, but his concentration on whatever he’s coloring tells her he’s going to fight her, and she’s not in the mindset to fight back, so she tells herself she tried and then begins to pick at her own food. 

 

“Loading dock!” Noah runs at the table, grabs an enormous bite of noodles and then rushes back to the coloring book.

 

She chuckles watching him hum happily through his chewing and enthusiastic scribbling. Somewhere, she loses sense of time and when she realizes Noah has fallen asleep on the floor, her food has gone cold and she’s taken but half a bite. Bracing herself for a sleeless night, she wonders if Rafael is suffering the same fate-she hopes he is anyway. 

  
  
  
  
  



	2. You'll always be my favorite ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liv and Rafa attempt a conversation

She’s watched him from the door for twenty minutes.

 

She thinks maybe he’s looked for her in the crowd a couple of times but she’s not going to go down that road right now. She keeps peering into the classroom through the small window. For a Saturday class, the room is packed and while she’d like not be, she’s impressed. 

 

He’s wearing glasses and she’s not sure if she was aware he’d been wearing contacts all these years.

 

The way he commands the room--she’s not surprised. He’s never had a shortage of charisma and while it’s no courtroom performance, the spirit and passion are still there. There isn’t a stray eye in the room and she’s not surprised. She’d be happy for him if it didn't hurt so much.

 

He can’t hear what he’s said, but whatever it is, it makes the room erupt with laughter and moments later, the class is dismissed. 

 

She waits while students disperse and trickle out, the group surrounding Rafael’s desk slowly disbanding.

 

He spots her as he secures a scarf around his neck and smiles. Her heart skips a beat and she can’t help but respond in kind from where she stands under the doorframe. 

 

As he makes his way toward her, Liv fights the impulse to bolt, she can feel the muscle in her legs twitch to run but with a fortifying breath, she steadies herself and waits. 

 

“You came.” 

 

“I almost didn’t,” she confesses and in a moment of weakness reaches out to lightly brush his shoulder. The light brown jacket and sweater vest are new, but nice nonetheless. She swear she recognizes the tie. “Nice threads.” 

 

“You too,” he says, briefly tugs at her coat sleeve. “But you always look great.”

 

Just then, the remaining students breeze past them, making them all too aware of their surroundings. 

 

Olivia shifts her weight and drops her gaze to the floor, but Rafael is still looking at her; she can feel his eyes on her. 

 

“Do you want to get a coffee with me?” He asks, “I know a decent place just off campus.” 

 

She looks up at him and nods, tears already stinging her eyes. She wonders how it’s possible to miss someone so badly when they’re standing right there. 

 

“Yeah,” she manages and nods, “yeah, I would love to get a coffee with you.” 

  
  
  


They walk in silence, their arms and hands brushing occasionally-every time they do she turns her palm toward his, but she won’t allow herself to hold it. The flicker of heat from his skin when she grazes it draws her back to the day he left her standing there, processing an almost love confession, knowing she was expected to not follow. 

 

They squeeze through a group crowding the sidewalk, his hand on the small of her back, and she wonders who the hell that woman was with him. How long has he been back? 

 

She feels a tug on her arm and she gasps in surprise. Finding herself wrapped in his arms suddenly, she closes her eyes, hugging him with equal, almost desperate force as she presses her nose to his collar and breathes him in. He holds her tighter; she wishes he would crush her in his arms. Maybe her broken bones would fill the strange hollow space in her chest. 

 

He feels the rumble of his chest before she hears him speaking.

 

“What?” She asks and she shivers at the feel of his breath against her cheek when he turns to kiss it. 

 

“I said I don’t think I’ve ever given you a proper hug before.” 

 

They pull away slowly, stealing awkward glances at each other as the city noise caves in on them. 

 

He looks up and she follows his gaze. They’re standing outside the diner; it’s crowded. 

 

He frowns at her, “I have better coffee at my place. It’s not far. We can walk.” 

 

She nods. He leads the way. 

 

It isn’t a long walk but it it feels endless. 

 

He keeps stealing glances at her; she thinks maybe he wants to say something but can’t think of the right thing. She isn’t putting off the most reciprocal of vibes so she can’t blame him for that, but the closer they get to her apartment, the easier it gets to blame him for a bunch of other things. The anger must be gradually evident on her face because he doesn’t try to touch her again, not even when they get to his building and he opens the door for her, his hand hovers short of touching her back as he guides her inside.

 

The elevator is broken, so they walk up three floors to the mid-size loft. It isn’t big but the ceilings are high and it’s updated enough that she knows this is costing him a pretty penny. There are windows everywhere. Furniture is kept to a minimum but she recognizes some pieces from his old place. 

 

“I got a good deal on it,” He tells her, leading the way into toward the kitchen. “An old friend made a move to the West coast kind of last minute and needed to sell. At a very low price. I couldn’t say no.” 

 

“It’s nice,” she says, looking up the stairs that lead to the exposed bedroom where she can see some unpacked boxes. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she asks with a wince, “You don’t have an easel laying around here somewhere do you?”

 

He laughs, pulling a silver bag of coffee from a shelf. “No. I haven’t quite hit that midlife crisis yet.”

 

“Good.” 

 

The kitchen is in the only dark corner of the apartment and he hasn’t switched on the lights, yet she can see every shade of green in his eyes behind his glasses; his hair, which to anyone else might seem carelessly tussled, is a little longer than she’s used to seeing it. There’s a lot more grey in it than she remembers but it suits him. 

 

The coffee maker begins to brew with a soft whir as their eyes meet; her, leaning against the counter, while he’s facing her a foot away, his gaze sweeping up every new aspect of her, collecting the details--a softer affection to her own bitter, stubborn one.

 

It occurs to Olivia then that the last time they stood this close, he had kissed her forehead while she gripped his jacket, knowing fully well her world was about to crumble.

 

Her voice sounds off to her own ears when the thought materializes out of its own volition just then, “The last time we stood like this, I thought you’d kiss me.” She breathes in slowly, exclaiming at the foot of her exhale, “You  _ should _ have kissed me.” 

 

The last syllable has just left her when his lips land on hers and she wishes,  _ god she wishes _ she would just push him away. That’s what she wants to want to do, but she kisses him back instead. In fact, she pulls him closer by the lapels of his coat and then slides her hands inside it, pushing it off his shoulders.

 

His hands find her waist as he backs her up against the counter; the weight is a welcome pressure and she moans into his mouth when he palms one breast over her sweater. 

 

The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as his lips trail along her jawline and down the side of her neck.

 

_ Is this how this happens _ , she wondered. Is this how they reconcile the shitfest they made of their relationship by doing nothing for so long?

 

A cold draft jerks her reasoning into place when he shoves her coat past her shoulders and she feebly pushes at his chest, though her mouth searches for his once anyway; she allows herself one more kiss before pushing again.

 

“No, wait,” she pants, “wait wait wait.” 

 

She slips out of his grasp, leaving him braced against the counter as she pulls her jacket back on while walking back into the living area. 

 

The coffee maker brews it’s last few drips behind her. When it shuts off, she can hear Rafael catching his breath as Olivia does the same, pacing back and forth in front of the window, pretending to look out at the beautiful view she doesn’t care about right now. 

 

The sound of dishes stop her, followed by the sound of pouring, a spoon gently clinking against ceramic. 

 

She turns toward the sound of approaching footsteps.

 

Aside from a few locks of hair out place, Rafael looks the same as before; together, somber--a little guilty. 

 

He hands her a cup, careful not to touch her, and then gives her a tight lipped smile before finding a seat in a brown leather armchair.

 

The coffee’s strong and rich; it helps her focus on something other than what just went on in the kitchen.

 

“This is great, thanks.”

 

He nods. “I brought it back with me from Cuba.”

 

“Cuba, huh? How long were you there?” 

 

“Five or six weeks. Tried to exorcise some demons.”

 

“Did it work?” 

 

“It...distracted me a week or so.” 

 

He shrugs and sips his coffee, she does the same. After a few moments of silence, he leans forward, and says, “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner, but I’m back. I’m here. So, what can I do? Tell me what to do to fix it.” 

 

Olivia takes a moment to ponder on that. She could yell, shoot her frustrations at him, tell him how sad she’s been, and how angry it’s made her to see him with some stranger. But she’s tired, and they’ve talked around the real issue for so long that it feels redundant to consider hashing it out now. 

 

She taps the nail of her index finger against the coffee mug, imagines raking her nails along the scruff on his cheeks...

 

“Show me your bedroom.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if there would be sexy times but I guess there will be soon!


	3. shower your affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liv asks Rafael for details about his time away.

He sits at the edge of his bed while she walks around his bedroom. There are technically only three walls, and there is not much to peruse, still it’s somewhat comforting to see picture frames and his watch on the dresser, a wardrobe box with his suits peeking out. It feels permanent and permanent is good.

 

“Where did you go?”

 

She’s got her back to him while she toys with a pair of cufflinks resting atop the one dresser in the room. “At first. Where did you go at first?” 

 

She hears him exhale a long breath. 

 

“I went to see my mom. She was upset, as expected. We didn’t speak for a long time.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“We had dinner a few nights ago. I think she’s considering forgiving me.” 

 

“Good.” She nods, picking up a picture of Rafael at around two, in his mother’s arms. It really gets her that he would choose to through their falling-out alone. By choice no less. “And then?”

 

“And then...and then I traveled around a little.”

 

“Where?” She asked, moving on, toward a small bookcase to her left. 

 

“Uh, here and there. You know.”

 

“I  _ don’t _ know. So, where?”

 

He chuckles a little and she fights the urge to throw the book she’s holding right at his face. 

 

“This is starting to feel a lot like an interrogation.” 

 

“You asked what you can do. You can do  _ this _ .” She shuts the book, shoves it back in its place and picks out another.

 

“Okay. I went to Spain. A really old, really small town called Setenil de las Bodegas. It’s got great food, amazing wine and not a lot of people because there’s isn’t a lot to see, which is exactly what I wanted.” 

 

She turns to face him now, book still in her grasp. For the first time since they met up she sees the honest defeat all over his face.

 

“Is that the town that was built into the rocks, or the caves or whatever?”

 

He smiles at that, his shoulders square up a little. “Yeah, it is.”

 

“How was that?” 

 

“It was...intense. It was a lot. A lot of time with myself. More than I’ve had in my life, I think. There was a lot of drinking, not much sleeping. I couldn’t. But I did score a few little treasures. Like that first edition you’re holding.” 

 

She turns the the book over in her hand to read the spine and she manages to appear impressed. “Wow. A Lorca.” 

 

He nods excitedly. “I rented a room from this old couple--I initially planned on staying a month, wound up spending most of my time there. They gave me that book when I left. I got a call from a friend around that time. The friend you saw last night.” 

 

She bites her cheek to keep from reacting to that image and turns briefly to put the book back. 

 

“She tracked me down somehow, told me she could put in a good word for me but that i needed to come back soonish. So, I went to Trinidad-thought I owed the motherland a visit-and I came back here. It’d been a crazy couple of weeks, moving in here, starting the new job, I just needed to get my bearings before I saw you. I wanted to be--I  _ needed _ to be solid when i saw you, Liv.”

 

“But you were planning on calling me.” 

 

“God, yes. YES.” 

 

“It was the wrong way, you know that, right? The way you left was the wrong way.”

 

“I know.” 

 

“You and I,” she stops and swallows, glancing up at the ceiling, forcing that knot in her throat back down, where it belongs. “Rafa, we deserved better.” 

 

“You deserved better,” he corrects her, scooting forward but respecting her space enough to stay seated. “You did, Liv. I don’t have an excuse. I won’t try to find one. All I can say is that it was hell being away. For many reasons, but--I’ve missed you. And you can trust that.”

 

She sighs, moves forward and takes a seat beside him before sinking back onto the bed, scooting back until her head finds a pillow. He follows suit and she feels the bed dip as he settles beside her. 

 

“When uh, when Elliot left, I was,” she waves a hand in the air as if she could grab the right words there, “I was destroyed. I was a wreck. I cried everyday for a month. Working in that precinct was like carving out little pieces of flesh everyday and then going home to soak in rubbing alcohol every night. I felt so alone. He had become my whole world and suddenly he was gone.”

 

She pauses while she toes off her shoes and they hit the floor with two soft thuds. 

 

“But you,” she turns her head to look at him and waits for him to face her to continue because she doesn't want there to be any question. “You broke my heart. I had Noah, I had my work. I had a family, I didn’t need to make you into all of that because you were different. I knew I didn't need you but I had decided maybe it would be nice to have you. So I wanted you, and it was different because wanting someone who wants you back is different than needing someone who doesn't want you. I thought maybe you’d want to have me, too.”

 

“I did--”

 

“But you left,” she says softly, tears pricking her eyes. This time she lets them fall. “I’m so mad at you. I was so happy to see you last night and then--I was furious with you. Why didn’t you let me help you?”

 

“You couldn’t,” He says, his voice gentler than she’s ever heard it as he reaches out to cradle her cheek. “You couldn't help me. I wasn’t even sure I could help me. I didn’t know if I’d come back from that. I did want you. I  _ do _ want you. You’re the only reason I came back.” 

 

She kisses him softly, almost gingerly, for a few seconds until she feels his tongue when he kisses the corner of her mouth. The taste of her own tears in his mouth the final tug that makes her resolve snap. 

 

He sits up when she straddles him, giving a displeased grunt when she pushes him back down, but he stays there, only moving to remove his glasses and place them on the bedside table. While he’s doing that, she pulls her badge, and her gun along with its holster off her belt and places them on the floor. 

 

Rafael laughs, bracing her hips as he watches her take off her jacket. “You working or were those for me?” 

 

“I’m always working, don’t flatter yourself.” 

 

The way he’s rubbing little circles just above her waistline, underneath her sweater, makes her lose her train of thought momentarily.

 

Olivia sighs, rocks her hips slightly back and forth and then leans forward, draping herself over him so she can feel his chest against hers as she kisses him. She tastes sugary coffee, smells that scent that is uniquely him. It’s almost a relief.

 

She nuzzles his cheek, smiles against the roughness of his stubble and then pulls back enough to meet his eyes as she combs her fingers through his hair, her own hair curtaining around both their faces. 

 

Tracing his cheekbone with her thumb she says plainly, “You were such a pain the ass when I first met you.”

 

He laughs, runs his hands up and down her sides. Despite the little jolt of pleasure that causes she continues her musings, “You were so cocky and full of yourself. You hardly looked up from your phone the first year we worked together. I would have fucked you in a second.”

 

He smiles, wide, the surprise evident on his face. “What?” 

 

“Oh yeah. Back when I didn’t give a shit about you and you annoyed the hell out of me, had you paid attention to my shameless flirting, you would have gotten laid so fast. All that justified ego was hot as hell.” 

 

“What changed?” He asks, lifting his head to steal a chaste kiss. 

 

“You turned into my favorite person. It turns out you’re actually a really good guy. Then it was just too dangerous to do anything about it.” 

 

“Ah, I hate it when that happens.” 

 

“Listen to me,” she says, holding his face in one hand. “Not everyone is strong enough to do a terrible thing when it’s the right thing to do. Not everyone is willing to carry that burden around. But you did it. Because you’re a good person, Rafa. You took that dark shadow off those parents’ backs because they couldn’t bear it.  _ You _ did that for them.”

 

She brushes a stray tear off the corner of his eye and watches him swallow hard. She can see her words register in his eyes. She can only imagine the torture he’s been putting himself through and it kills her. He was suffering alone in some foreign country, while she was suffering alone here, when all along they could have healed together. 

 

“You don’t have to carry all this darkness around with you. I may have shown you color,” she smiles, grateful when he smiles back, “but you are--so full of light. Don’t force that away.”

 

He stares back for a while. He’s trying to say something smarmy, she can see the wheels turning, but he’s also fighting back tears and therefore at a loss for words, so he turns his head instead and kisses her palm, her wrist, her arm. 

 

“Come here.”

 

If Olivia believed in keeping diaries, she would fill page after page with synonyms of all the good things she feels when Rafael touches her. He’s making her moan softly, arch her back; she’s so wet it hurts, and she hasn’t even taken her clothes off; a problem he’s working on remedying at the moment, but she’s not sure she wants to let him pull the reins just yet. 

 

“Do you want to know something?” She asks before kissing his chin, then giving it a playful bite as his hands slip under her sweater, skimming her bare back. 

 

“Always.”

 

“On more than one occasion,” she trails kisses down his neck, “after seeing you in court,” her hands slide up and underneath his shirt, raking her nails along his stomach, “I’d get so worked up, I would go home,” pushing his shirt up to leave open-mouthed kisses low on his abdomen, “and I would touch myself.” 

 

He promptly groans, covers his eyes with both hands but quickly reaches for her again. 

 

She pushes his hands away and swiftly climbs off him before he can catch her, but he follows, sitting up and pulling her to stand between his legs. She lets him push her sweater up and kiss her stomach, cradles his head and sighs up at the ceiling as her jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped before they’re pushed down her hips and Rafael is mouthing her through her underwear. 

 

The heat of his breath against her pussy makes Olivia dizzy and she instinctively fists a hand in his hair with a breathless exclamation, “Oh god…” 

 

“I’m sorry I left the way I did,” he mumbles against her skin, then licks a vulgar little pattern just below her bellybutton. 

 

Liv smiles at that, and then moans when a hand glides swiftly up her thigh to press and rub firmly against her center. She looks down and asks, “Just how sorry are you?” 

 

He slips a finger under the crotch of her underwear and glancing up at him, he traces her slit. “Let me show you.” 


End file.
